I still hate goddamn football

Worst moment so far from OCI (other than having to disclose my undergrad grades to the punk asses who decided to ask about them):

I sit down to talk to two very nice people, one of whom happens to be from Burkburnett--so an immediate down-home angle to play. Unfortunately, he looks at my resume and perks up with "Ah, so you're a Longhorn. What'd you think of that game Saturday?"

Damn it. The season opener, which everyone was talking about on Saturday like it was the second coming or something. My mental "to-do list" flashed inside my head, with "At least find out who wins" unchecked (I HAD managed to check on the Cowboys, though, but to no avail). Worse yet, the guy didn't give me any of the inflection that I normally count on in these situations to indicate whether I'm supposed to be giddy or outraged over whatever the hell transpired out there.

The best I could manage was a lame "Well, it's just one of those things. I heard on the radio that it was closer than the scoreboard said." (I did hear that as I scanned past ESPN Radio, right? Weren't they talking about UT?) Mercifully, a subject change came to my rescue.

I found out later that UT won, for whatever that's worth. Hook 'em Horns!

Frou-frou cocktail party winds to an end (at least for me)

Now to be replaced with a much more abbreviated frou-frou lunch/dinner season. Here's a few wrap-up observations:

Comfort level with consuming alcohol ramped up drastically toward the end. For well over half of them, it was Diet Coke only. When it got down to the ones in the last week, though, we figured, "what the hell, free wine--pound it."

"What's your sign? Leo or Aquarius?" In ffcp talk, that comes out as "So are you interested in transactional or litigation?" Or, from us back to them: "So what area do you practice in? Transactional or litigation?"

The Ritz-Carlton downtown is a little over-the-top. However, it will probably be the only time in my life that I see beef wellington served from an appetizer tray.

All in all, a very long, stressful three weeks. Just for Kellus, though: proof that they're not going to alter the Deadman. Instead of flying the flag at the last cocktail reception on my rotation this evening, I decided to hit the gym instead, where I got 7 reps at 225 on the bench press, then cleaned 185 off the floor and jerked out 5 overhead reps, which makes a bodyweight attempt look doable soon. That workout was just what the doctor ordered.